


Days Worth Fighting For

by mystarsandmyocean



Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5470205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystarsandmyocean/pseuds/mystarsandmyocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the silence that follows the events of The Winter Long, Toby takes some time for herself. </p>
<p>Unfortunately – or not – her friends are not so inclined to leave her alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rhiannon87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon87/gifts).



“Aren’t brides supposed to be blushing? Or interested in parts beyond _the blushing_?”

I lifted my head above the nest it had made amongst the pillows on my bed, trying to remember what part of “May” and “Maid of Honor” had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Of course, it was more complicated than that. Fae weddings – fae anything, really – were _always_ more complicated than that.

For non-starters, I was hero to the realm of the Mists, as well as sworn to Shadowed Hills. My fiancé, alternatively, was Cait Sidhe and a King of Cats. As such, all of our wedding plans to date had been Tybalt negotiating with the current Queen of the Mists and my liege lord for loyalty – as my fidelity was already bound – in exchange for, if not allegiance, then an alliance between their courts. The ceremony would be much less focused on the entire to love and until death do us part and entirely on the fae’s notion of fidelity: everlasting and everbinding bondage.

By this logic, I supposed, I shouldn’t even be _able_ to marry Tybalt. There was already a man I had pledged myself to and called husband, just as there was already a women whom Tybalt had loved and married. My husband – now ex – had gotten a divorce. Tybalt’s wife had died.

The sticking point? They both had been human. And in the eyes of the Faerie, that made them not our spouses, not even valid ties on our hearts. At best, they weren’t even an affair. Just a mistake.

Just like my mother – Amandine’s – relationship with my father. And hadn’t that been a pleasure to discover their marriage hadn’t even been valid?

No, the man I really should have been calling dad all these years was the psychopathic kidnapper who’d turned me into a fish. The brother to my liege lord. The man who, admittedly, _had_ tried to help me before succumbing to sleep by elfshot. Luckily, I now had another one hundred years before wading back into that quagmire – though, who knows, maybe mom had another secret husband lying around that just about everyone I knew had forgotten to mention?

“Toby?”

Right. May was waiting, surprisingly still, arms crossed in the doorway and head tilted near horizontally. Even though she wore my face, her expression called to mind her Night Shade brethren – confused by the actions of the living and determined to figure out exactly what was going on.

"Toby?" 

This time, May drew out my name, making a prodding out of her question. 

"I am not discussing Tybalt and mine's sex life with you," I mumbled, turning away from the door to burrow deeper into the covers.

I could hear May's wrinkle of disgust and almost smiled, if that didn't seem like an unnecessary amount of effort. Was wanting to sleep - when the world, for once, seemed to be leaving me alone - so wrong? 

"You might want to tell that to Shakespeare's biggest fan. He could be expecting a blushing virgin bride, for all you know."

Thinking of exactly where Tybalt's hands had been last time he'd stayed the night, I snorted. Somehow, that wasn't ranking at the top of my list of problems.

May stayed silent now, but I knew she hadn't given up. It was sweet, if unnecessary. I just needed to...process. And maybe hope for a shot of elfshot myself.

Maybe I'd be able to make threads of these tangled knots in a hundred years or so. With May as my Maid of Honor - her adaptation of the human moniker for wedding planner, since the presence of my liege lord and queen was the closest the fae had to that role - the ceremony could be planned by then as well.

"Let's do a movie night next time Tybalt comes around closer to non-sleeping hours. Jazz can pick the movie."

It wasn't quite a pledge to leave my room, but it was an offer. The best I could make.

"You're not cooking," May threatened. "But you are making the popcorn. Enough for everyone."

It was only when the door snicked shut that I closed my eyes, letting thoughts of Simon and Sylvester and Evening run until I slept, exhausted.

 

\---

 

Quentin came next.

"I'm thinking about trying the human thing again."

That, at least, deserved my head raised above the bed. Damn high squire meant, of course, I'd get a crick in my neck if I didn't at least sit up.

"Any particular reason?" I tested the words out carefully, aiming to keep any judgment or opinion out of my tone. The last time Quentin had tried on a human identity, registering as a student and even dating a human girl, things had ended - poorly. It hadn't been the kid's fault, but still, I'd rather thought he hadn't yet recovered from what I'd termed the loss of his childhood innocence.

"Not because of Katie," he clarified, sitting himself on the very edge of my bed. I almost told him he couldn't exactly catch sex germs, but caught myself. "Or, well, not really. Just - with everything that's happened lately and now you and Tybalt, I've been thinking..."

I hoped I looked as confused as I felt. Sure, the entire Simon and Sylvester dybacle hadn't necessarily been easy on my squire, but I'd at least always thought that he and Tybalt got along. Raj, Tybalt's heir, was practically his best friend after everything we had gone through.

"Do you not want to be my squire anymore?" I asked the only question that came to mind, the only answer I could think to Quentin's vague, sudden awkwardness.

He'd seen me at my weakest points at late - addiction to goblin fruit, near gutting too many times to count, more enemies too powerful and too numerous to name.

Maybe he thought he couldn't learn anything else from me? Maybe he thought he had to protect me too, and was trying to think of a way to say that?

Did no one in my life trust me to make my own choices anymore?

"What?!" Shock, and even a flash of hurt, covered Quentin's face. "No! I just - I meant - I don't want to leave you yet, okay? That's what I was trying to say. I'm not ready to stop being your squire."

Understanding, slower than I would have liked, filled my sleep-muddled mind.

Everything that had happened - meaning the awkwardness between Sylvester and myself, plus my new engagement to Tybalt. If I renounced my fealty to Shadowed Hill, what would that mean for us? 

"Quentin." He met my gaze, his mouth pinched tightly. "You are my squire until I deem you ready and release you, alright? Not a day earlier. If you want to try a human life again, I'm not going to stop you, but I don't want you to do it because you think you're losing what you have here because you're not. Got it?"

He nodded tremulously before scrambling off the bed, hands clasped in front of him. Those ridiculous manners of his, always showing at the oddest of times.

"Raj and I haven't seen you training in days." His eyes held a glimmer of a challenge.

I waved him to the door, not quite ready to leave my bed yet. "Don't get cocky, kid. I'm still the hero here."

 

\---

 

_Part II to come_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delayed posting of the second/bonus part - I've been traveling and without internet access. Happy New Year and Happy Yuletide!

I woke to arms, sinewed and warm, wrapping round my waist. One palm cupped the underside of my breast, the thumb flicking slow circles beneath my shirt. The other curled beneath my head, shifting my neck closer to Tybalt's cold nose and kisses.

I squirmed away. Or tried to, at least.

"Slipping away, little fish?" Tybalt's breath ghosted across my cheek, between one press of his lips and the next.

It was our old song and dance, our courtship, if Tybalt was telling the story, but instead of bantering back, his words just made me squirm harder, his grip releasing as I flipped on the bed, breaking his hold. I didn't want him to hold me, to cover me, placing himself between me and the world -

"October?"

His hand hovered in the air between us, his arms couching his figure low. A King of Cats, near supplicant, all so I would know there was no threat he carried. Flinging off the covers, I shot off the bed and started pacing, cold and shaking and wishing, just once, that I still lived in my old apartment, that I still slept alone, where no one could bother me, that I had never gone hunting for Simon Torquill, never answered the phonecall that had bound me to Evening.

Never had been given the Choice.

I whirled, taking a step back to the bed, where Tybalt perched, preternaturally still. His features were blank, but I knew him well enough to see the fear - the hurt - that lingered in his eyes. He stayed a statue as I crawled back beneath the sheets, shifting only to let the covers slide from him to me, his back facing the door. His focus never leaving my face.

He only relaxed when I reached for his hand, tangling my fingers in his, his eyes shuttering close before narrowing back on mine.

Experience had taught me the futility of challenging Tybalt to a staring contest. We were a match made in stubbornness, at least.

"I'm tired," I said, "of the people I love - of the people who love me - keeping secrets to protect me."

Sylvester's face flashed across my mind, the anguish almost a twin for Simon's. Or maybe I was the fool, trying to twist Sylvester's reasons, as hurtful as they were, into something altruistic, based in love instead of lies. Maybe there were twins, truly, blood winning out.

And that was the irony, wasn't it?

Simon had dressed his actions in pretty words and fancy excuses, reason upon reason for his actions. For Sylvester, there had been no justification he could offer - none he had wanted to offer, I reminded myself - and so he had given me only apologies when asked.

I still couldn't decide what hurt more.

"I cannot say I disagree with Torquill's reasoning, if not his methods." Tybalt's gaze flickered to my neck, his grasp tightening. "You do have a rather...panic inducing prediliction for chosing the sword over the shield."

That was one lofty way to put it.

"I'm a hero." I fought to keep my voice calm and not pull away like before. "I will never be some damsel in a tower, waiting for the world to pass me by. Not before Amandine changed my blood, not when I got a facefull of goblin fruit, and certainly not now.

"I need to know I'll be getting the sword, not some...room with a lock."

The metaphor had been thoroughly hacked, but there was a reason I rarely paid attention to that stuff. I dealt in truth and blood, the fights that ripped Faerie's illusions away. Those magics belonged to Titania's get.

Tybalt's lips twitched, one canine curving over his smile. "I have little doubt, my love, that you would break the locks of any room that dared bar you exit. Sword in hand."

It was moments like this it was easy to remember why I'd fallen so hard for him. "Tybalt?" I crawled into his lap, knitting my fingers in his hair. "I love you."

Instead of smiling back, or even kissing me, Tybalt's expression flattened, his eyes turning serious, even sad. "I swear neither to tell you any untruths nor keep any truths of pertinance from you. If it affects you or yours, you shall know."

I tensed when Tybalt nudged me closer, his face still far too serious. Now was about the time when someone else's what if's and but's kicked in.

"I will never ask you to set aside your person, when it is that person whom I love so dearly." My mouth opened, whether to argue or agree, I wasn't quite sure, but he cut me off. "But I will ask this of you, my little fish. And I do not think it impertinent to presume that your allies would ask of you the same.

"Do not go where I cannot follow, October. I would give you strength a hundred strong, not so you would stand apart from the fight and the fray, but so you would know you do not stand alone. 

"I do not think I could forgive you for leaving me, with no hope of your return."

Dipping my head, I nudged open Tybalt's mouth, taking his bottom lip between mine. He purred, slipping his tongue to tease back against mine. I shifted, pushing him against the backboard until I was the one caged atop him, my tangled mess of hair a curtain between us and the world.

We lived in a world of immortals and unknowns, where even death - our one forbidden absolute - did not apply to me. Not unless I gave up, the dregs that remained, of my humanity. Tybalt wasn't exactly asking for an easy promise.

Then again, I'd made doing things the hard way into an art form by now.

"So long as it's in my power," I promised, pulling away until the sadness slipped from his eyes, our mouths a heartbeat apart, "I'm not leaving you. Ever."

A thought occurred afterwards, in between the hustle to untangle my bedsheets and remove Tybalt's favorite leather pants. "Can those count as our wedding vows then? I mean, everything else is just for the courts, not us, right?"

One feline eyebrow raised, even as Tybalt's claws sliced through my shirt and tossed it aside. It was a good thing he kept bringing me his.

"Oh no, little fish." His grin turned sharp as he flipped me over, the bedsprings shaking. "I want there to be no doubt. You are mine."

A knock at the door interrupted Tybalt's admittedly - effective - seduction. I grabbed the covers just in case.

"Toby! Tybalt! Stop knocking socks so we can have movie night!"

"I really don't think I needed to be here for that, Toby already hates being woken up-

I grimaced, rolling into Tybalt's side. Had I been feeling affection for them before?

"Aw, did you really think they were sleeping in there? That's adorable -"

"May, what does Toby want on her pizza?"

"Make them stop," I whined, pleading up at Tybalt. 

"October is currently indisposed," he announced, his voice resonating through the door. Benefits of kingliness - no shouting required to be heard. "We will meet you in the viewing area in a quarter past."

"We will?" 

"They are concerned for your well being." Vaulting off the bed, it was like he hadn't been near naked moments ago at all. Even his shirt was now all buttoned up, courtesy of his preternatural speed. "They wish to care for you. Not confine you."

I chewed over his words as I struggled back into whatever tshirt smelled cleanest, my least blood stained jeans still a crumbled pile by the bed. I trusted they'd be too stained or torn or whatever magical tragedy was destined to befall them soon enough, as was the fate for most of my wardrobe. I left the fancy dressing to May for a reason.

This time, when Tybalt slipped his hand into mine, I didn't flinch away, the walls not quit feeling too close and too wide all at once. This was Tybalt. My fiance. Future husband. The man I loved.

"You forgot one other thing about the wedding," I tossed over my shoulder as we trailed downstairs. "After it's done - you're mine."

"October," Tybalt's canines flashed in the light, his grin wide and daring. "Do you not know already? That has been true long without any public vows or declarations. The only difference is now you know."

"We are not putting fish on pizza-"

"-why not? That's what Raj and Tybalt like."

"Cats do have unusual tastes-"

"Think we should say something?" I tugged on Tybalt's hand, guiding him towards the kitchen, where Quentin and Jazz now debated which Fae had the odder tastes in cuisine.

"Your squire has made his own mess. Have faith he can stand strong against your Fetch and her lady love."

A loud crash echoed through the house, followed by an indignant screech.

Tybalt and I shared a look of hesitation, before I threw my shoulders back. Tybalt's grin transformed into a slightly more dignified smirk.

"Into battle?" he asked, offering me his arm.

I placed my hand over his, matching the ruthlessness in his smile. "Into battle."


End file.
